I, Leslie King, after years of being pure (at least mentally), have finally had my first wet dream. And hearing the words “Leslie King” and “wet dream” together in a sentence makes my skin crawl.
Why? Well, let me tell you why.
Firstly, amongst having this certain type of dream, I woke up to find my hand down my pants pleasuring my sacred woman box…for the first time ever. I know, it’s hard to believe—a twenty-seven-year -old woman of quite open minded standings and I have never quenched my curiosity on what my own fingers feel like down there (let alone what another man’s fingers feel like down there). And fortunately…or unfortunately, I have no recollection of what the sensation felt like; I only remember the discovery of my hand where it wasn’t supposed to be. However, I’m sure I enjoyed it, because I awoke flush faced, sweaty, and plagued with a feeling I have never even felt before.
Secondly, this is my first wet dream that I have ever had, as stated before. And this is the second to last reason as to why I feel like the filthiest person on this planet. Or at least in Seattle. Because the last reason as to why my skin is currently crawling, is the reason why I’m lifeless on the edge of my bed staring at the platter of breakfast go cold in front of me.
The man I dreamt about—the man who took me on his bedside table soaking wet and ravaging, was none other than Sebastian Harrison—the king of debauchery, my client, and the son of my boss.
My phone is buzzing with a text, but I’m too scared to look at it in fear of it being Sebastian. God, anything I think about regarding Sebastian will probably come along with the memory of his considerable naked body in front of me. Shit!
In an attempt to get my mind off of “XXX—Dreamland” I scarf down everything that is on the platter in front of me—eggs, bacon, toast, the whole works. It isn’t until my plate is clean and my orange juice is only mere drops in the pitcher that I realize I need to get dressed.
I take a quick cold shower, get dressed in jeans and a comfortable blouse, and brew a batch of coffee for my mug. While the coffee steams up into the air, I receive another text message, only this time I actually read it:
“Hey, change of plans. We’re heading out today,” it says from Sarah.
I frown before replying, “Why?”
She responds quickly.
“Hospital visit didn’t sit too well with the press. We need to make up another game plan. Sebastian and Lucas took one of the first flights out.”
“Alright,” I reply. “I’ll be down in the lobby with my things.”
I lock my phone and stare at the counter. Sebastian leaving early and not telling me about it? Not that it has anything to do with me wanting to know every step he takes, but if he makes a wrong move the press will be all over it more than they’re all over him now.
You wish you were all over him, don’t you?
“God dammit,” I hiss and my faulty thoughts.
“Rise and Shine,” Sarah says to me, eyes glued to her phone.
I set my bags down when I’m further into the lobby, lit by light pastel colored décor and spacious windows inviting the dim sunlight inside.
“Good morning,” I smile awkwardly. “I didn’t expect to be down here a couple of days ahead.”
Sarah looks up at me, her almond shaped eyes dragged down my tiredness, “Yeah, but Sebastian figured there was no point in us being here for an extra amount of days.”
“Yes, I understand,” I bite my lip. “When did Sebastian leave?”
Sarah raises an eyebrow while letting a smirk creep up on her face.
“I-I mean S-Sebastian and Luca—”
“Mhm, sure thing, Co-co puff,” she laughs. “He left around 7, so an hour ago.”
I nod, avoiding her eyes, “Okay.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t question it further, but it makes me uncomfortable, knowing that I have to act composed when I actually do see Sebastian eventually. It’s one thing to have a sex dream about a celebrity or someone you have never seen in your life, but it’s another to have one about someone you know. And there’s no way Sebastian can find out about this, because if he does, I will probably melt into a puddle of embarrassment. And plus, with Sebastian finally agreeing to trust me enough to accompany him on his journey to and through therapy, acting strange over a “silly” dream may make him feel weird. And that’s the last thing I want; I didn’t gain his trust just to break it down again.
Sarah and I make our way to the airport and endure a silent four-hour flight back to Tennessee. The only times we speak are about our next game plan for Sebastian’s rep, and honestly speaking, I have no idea what is to come next. With Sebastian being so…engrossed in his sadness, I’m reluctant to set anything up with him so fragile and vulnerable.
“I think we should probably take a little break,” I propose.
Sarah frowns, “Y-you…you want to take a break?”
“Yes. I mean, you’ve witnessed how distant Sebastian has been lately, and I don’t think putting more social pressure onto him is a good idea.”
Sarah scoffs, mostly out of disbelief that I want to take a break, but sits back and agrees.
“Okay. You know what, I think that’s a good idea. Besides, I think this gives you enough time to handle the ‘c-bomb’ yesterday.”
I groan when I remember that particular situation I still have to mend, and Sarah laughs before looking at the clouds outside of the window.
“Welcome back! How was your flight?”
Fiona welcomes us back warmly, almost like she doesn’t know the chaos that happened with Sebastian at the Seattle airport. But I know she does, because she also looks uneasy.
“It was good,” Sarah smiles. “Has the place been quiet without us?”
Fiona laughs as the housekeepers take our things, “Yes, it has. And also rather boring.”
I hear voices in the kitchen, all male voices. I grit my teeth as Fiona casually leads us towards the entrance, but it is then I realize that the kitchen is the only way to get outside to the guest house.
Fiona and Sarah start conversing, carrying it on into the kitchen. When we’re inside, I only see William, Patrick, and Lucas talking and laughing. A weight is lifted off of my shoulders as I allow myself to relax.
“Well, it seems the whole A-team is back early,” Patrick says condescendingly, his dark blue eyes on mine.
“Be nice,” Fiona chides, taking an apple and biting into it. Patrick rolls his eyes and starts for outside as William chuckles, but before he can even leave out the back door, the door to the kitchen opens.
“Oh,” Sebastian says. “I didn’t expect you all to be in here.”
I freeze at the island, and immediately flashbacks flood my mind when I hear his voice. Flashbacks so intense I can’t even move.
“We were waiting for you, little brother,” William says teasingly, his patronizing green stare matching Sebastian’s annoyed one. He ignores William and excuses himself through everyone.
“Did you get my email?” Sarah tells him.
Sebastian nods, an action I see out of the corner of my eye, “Yeah, I did. Nothing new.”
I know they’re talking about the articles online on Sebastian at the airport and the hospital. I want to tell Sarah about how it isn’t a good idea to mention it, but what kills me is the timing and circumstance.
Sarah and Sebastian continue to talk about the email as he walks into the kitchen, nearing where I’m at. Shit, what do I do? I can’t just leave now in a frantic; that would cause too much attention. My palms are sweating now, remembering every single detail of last night’s dream. Every hot, wet and forbidden detail that I still can’t explain.
I grab a banana in panic and start peeling it with shaking fingers. Jesus Christ, Leslie, why a banana!?
His voice is louder; I can feel his aura behind me. I need to leave, but I can’t move. So I just stand here, unable to act like an intelligent and composed adult, and start entering the banana in my mouth.
“Excuse me,” he suddenly says, and when he lightly places his hand on my lower back to get by, my nerves snap and wake with an unexpected reaction, and I jump, allowing the banana to get caught in my throat.
With the full intact banana in my mouth, I start choking with wide, scared eyes and grip my throat for relief. But all that does is snap the banana in half and lets one piece fall on the counter while the other still remains in my throat.
“Oh my God, oh my God she’s choking!” Lucas screams, and despite my attempt to console him, the banana fragment slides down my throat and makes it hard for me to even breathe. Tears start to form in my eyes at my lack of breath, and I see my reflection in one of the sugar containers; the redness of my face can put the devil to shame.
Everyone is yelling and freaking out while wondering what should be done next. William and Patrick are yelling at Fiona and Sarah is yelling at Sebastian, while Lucas screams loudly through the whole thing like a woman in a horror movie.
And while this chaos plays through, the stubborn piece of banana finally decides to painfully make it down my throat and give me the ability to breathe. My esophagus, toughly but successfully getting the banana down, burns inside me. But I’m alive.
Yet they don’t know that.
“I’m…I’m okay, I’m okay!” I rasp and cough, but every time I try to repeat the sentence, I cough for oxygen and defeat the purpose.
“What the fuck do you want me to do!?” Sebastian yells at Sarah.
“H-Heimlich, Heimlich maneuver!” she screams frantically.
“Noooo!” I rasp.
“Wh-what!?” Sebastian yells.
“Do it!” Sarah and William shout in unison, and without thinking it through, Sebastian wraps his arms around my waist, pulls my back into his body, and starts repeatedly slamming my body into his in an attempt to get the imaginary banana out of my throat. Sebastian’s strength significantly outweighs my body, because with every pound of his fist into my chest and my body being slammed against his, I feel myself being lifted off of the floor and compressed tightly by his arms.
I frail my arms and legs for release from him, because despite the current circumstances, this position makes some very crude thoughts enter my brain. And I want out.
“Stop! Stop!” I choke out. Your dick is on my ass, your dick is on my ass, abort, abort!
“Wait, stop!” Patrick yells. “She’s fine!”
You don’t need to tell Sebastian twice. He quickly removes his grip from around me, and I hold onto the counter for support. Catching my breath for a moment while Fiona brings a cup of water to my side, the room regains its clarity again. I look around—everyone is staring at me. And it is then I know that it is time to go.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I tell them when they start to ask questions. Wanting to avoid their invasiveness, I try to make it to the door, but Sebastian blocks my way when he sets his hands on my arms.
I want you, Leslie.
“Whoa, whoa!” he says to me seriously. “Slow down! Are you okay?”
I’m speechless, and of course, the first thing I see when I look at him is Sebastian with absolutely no clothes on, standing stark naked in front of me.
Oh my God.
“I’m okay,” I say as I look at the ceiling.
He tilts his head at me like a curious puppy, “But you—”
“I’M OKAY!” I shout loudly. He staggers back with doe eyes, and immediately I clutch my purse to my chest like an NFL player and shuffle out of the back door into the moist heat.
Day one of our break…or one day since I choked on a banana.
I wake up the next day like I only got an hour of sleep. Thankfully, I didn’t have another wet dream, but that doesn’t mean that the memory of the first one went away.
After embarrassing myself in front of Sebastian and part of his family, I ran to the guest house like an idiot and hid out most of the day. Loretta told me that Fiona and William came by to see how I was doing, but I had told her to inform them that I am in good health and perfectly fine.
Knowing that I needed to keep my mind occupied, I called Darcy and told her to do some extensive research on the best therapists in our area in Tennessee. And after a few hours of relentless work, she accumulated an exceptional list of four therapists with commendable credentials. I ended up landing on Dr. Bakura, mainly because of her inviting practice and perfect ratings. I emailed Sebastian about the decision, and he agreed without a fight. He told me, in email, that he would set an appointment and notify me if anything significant came up, and within an hour, Sebastian responded telling me that the appointment was set for Wednesday in the small wealthy town of Wrightwood, where her practice resides. I know, knowing of Sebastian’s celebrity credit, that she would of course respond quicker than any other clients. And I’m happy she did, but I also wish that I would have been there with Sebastian to set this all together; it’s different reading him in person rather than reading him in an email.
Now, I have gotten dressed in my conventional work attire even though we have vowed to take a break. But with myself, my work is never done. In the morning, I respond to a few emails about Garrett and catch up on the events of Harrison Inc. But somehow, sitting here not having anything to do is driving me bananas.
I put on my heels and decide to head over to the library. Hopefully Sarah and Lucas are in there, so I can occupy myself with their entertaining presence of bickering and teasing. Upon entering the main house, the halls and rooms are empty and quiet. Sometimes I wonder where they all seem to go or what they seem to be doing, but I figure that it isn’t my business to worry, and I’m here for more important things than investing my curiosity in a family that can buy my existence.
As I walk down the quiet hallway to the library with my coffee in one hand and phone in the other, I hear footsteps behind me.
“Leslie,” I hear Sebastian say behind me.
I pause in my tracks.
The normal thing to do, meaning the action that wouldn’t raise any suspicion in Sebastian’s mind, would be to greet him kindly and walk with him into the library. But since I’m a woman who tends to act irrationally in uncomfortable situations, I pretend as if I don’t hear him and walk at a faster pace, forgetting Sebastian’s stride beats mine by at least three easy steps.
“Leslie,” he says again, only this time there is concern in his voice. Oh, God—he’s onto me.
“Good morning,” I say, my voice raspy.
“Good morning,” he replies, keeping up with my pace. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine.” I give him an uneasy smile, and that does it.
He lightly grabs my arm and pulls us to a stop. I back up against the wall and look up at him, only he decides to inch closer towards me, close enough for us to share the same breath.
“No, something is wrong,” he finally replies.
“Nothing is wron—”
“Ever since we got back you’ve been acting very weirdly towards me,” he brushes his hair away from his face, giving me a clearer view of the eyes that hypnotize. “If I did something wrong, I wish you’d tell me. I mean, you choked on a banana and yelled at me when I tried to help you.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just embarrassed.”
“Okay,” he says slowly, like he’s unsure. “So what about before that? I saw how tense you were.”
“Um I-I’m…I’m…I think I’m coming down with something.” I fake cough. “Yup. Definitely a cold. That Seattle weather was no joke.”
“You know, you’re not a very good liar,” he says quietly.
My breathing is rigid. I have to think of something, because he sees right through me, and the more I look at him the more I can’t look at him the same.
“I’m on my period,” I blurt out.
Sebastian’s eyes are wide, and his face is blank before he grows tense and uncomfortable. He takes a step back.
“Oh…I didn’t know,” he starts. “I-I mean obviously I didn’t know but I just…I just thought it was because I said something wrong.”
“Nope. Aunt Flo has come into town,” I laugh, until I realize how stupid that sounded. “B-but yes, that is the reason.”
“I’m sorry,” he says nervously. “I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t…you know what, I’m just going to go.”
As if it wasn’t awkward enough, he salutes by saying:
“Good luck with your week…or month or however long it—yeah, I’m going now.”
He treads off down the hallway, and I land my head in my hands. Despite this being one of the most mortifying moments I’ve had in a while, this outcome is way better than what I had in mind if he found out about “The Dream.”
I shiver when I think about it.